Around the Corner
by mwuh-awesome
Summary: '… some days, some nights, Edward wished he would simply fall asleep and wouldn't wake up.' Some nights were spent in happiness and overwhelming determination and others in the company of darkness. In which Ed is depressed and Mustang notices. RoyEd, parental or otherwise. Infer what you will. T for sadness.


Inspired from my fic 'Shattered.' (which will most likely be deleted later this week). Basically, I reread it and felt complelled to redo it, as I do for most of my old stories. I have come so far in my writing skills, especially since my last fandom.

Contains RoyEd, parental or otherwise.

* * *

Some days, the philosopher stone felt as though it was just around the corner, that they just had to survive through a few more of Mustang's short jokes and then they'd find the stone.

Some days, Edward let himself believe that their burden wasn't that bad, wasn't that painful, wasn't that tragic. He would restore Al to his rightful body soon - just you wait! Other people had dealt with worse and survived and they would too. The alchemy was so easy, the leads were so hopeful and Ed was filled with so much determination that they _couldn't _fail.

On those days, the sun shone a little brighter, the air smelt a little cleaner and the alchemic theories came a little easier.

But… some days, some nights (the nights when all leads had dried up, the nights were the only thing Ed could feel was the constant ache of his non-existent limbs, when the only emotion he was capable of feeling was that never ending emptiness that threatened to consume him), Edward wished he would simply fall asleep and wouldn't wake up. That would be the end of their suffering and sins, their pain and heartache, their failures and mistakes. Ed would never have to go through any on it again and he could spend the rest eternity encased in a numbing slumber.

It was selfish; he knew that. When those nights returned and brought with them the want (_need) _for never ending sleep, Ed hated himself all the more for even daring to think of leaving his little brother alone to fix _his _screw up. He couldn't do that. He had to continue on this wild goose-chase, if not for his brother, than for the simple fact that he didn't deserve the bliss that eternal sleep would bring. He had done too much, seen too much. He deserved the pain breathing brought.

So after those nights when morning finally dawned and he awoke (he hated himself for hating that), Ed would force a smile on his face and loudly comment on the beautiful weather. He would say to Al 'Today's the day!' and walk to headquarters, putting a noticeable bounce in his step. He made sure to yell a little louder at Mustang's retorts and remembered to smile a little wider at everyone he came across. To Ed, it felt as though he was trying to make up for what simply wasn't there.

Al never seemed to notice when his thoughts took a darker turn. Or maybe, some part of Ed's mind whispered, he didn't want to notice. He hurt too, more so then Ed ever did. His sadness would never match up to Al's so why should he then expect Al to look after him?

(Al, years later when Ed confessed this to him, punched the idiot in the jaw, much like he did after the time they ran into Scar. 'Stop carrying this burden by yourself!' Al yelled. 'You hurt too! We both hurt! Stop thinking I'm perfect!').

But every time, without fail, when these days would draw to a close and it was nearing the time Edward would have to leave and return to the darkness of his own thoughts, Al would suddenly be needed. Whether it Fuery, Havoc, or even Hawkeye, one of Mustang's subordinates would find something Al, and only Al, would need to do. Al would always agree, and Ed would always be left behind with only the dark-haired Colonel for company.

(It never occurred to Ed to wonder why Mustang was never the one to ask Al a favour or why, before asking Al for a hand, his subordinates' eyes would flicker towards Mustang for the briefest of moments. Nor did he wonder why, although the tasks were the menial kind that should have only taken minutes to complete, Al usually disappeared for hours.)

The two never said anything to one another in these moments. Nothing was spoken but sometimes Ed liked to think there was a kind of mutual understanding between them and that was the reason for the silence. (He would be certain of this if it wasn't for the constant and unescapable doubt that lingered in the back of his mind.)

As soon as Al was out of sight, Ed would flop onto the couch, previous mask forgotten, and sleep. Without even being told to, he slept.

Hours later, Ed would be woken by the return of his younger brother and though he had fallen asleep with nothing but his coat for warm, he would awake to find a blanket draped over him.

And later that night when he closed his eyes, Ed didn't see flashes of his mother's dead body, twisted and malformed into something no longer human. He didn't see Elysia, now without a father because of his actions. He didn't hear echoes of a dying chimera or the splatter of blood as Scar ended its (her) suffering. He didn't see an empty hollow of armour's chest or hear the metallic noise it made when automail knuckles knocked against it.

When Ed closed his eyes, he saw what everyone else saw. That night, Ed slept as anyone else would. Dreamt as they would.

And in the morning, the bounce in his step and loud proclamations of the weather stopped being forced and hollow and become things he truly believed.

After all, he reminded himself, the stone was just around the corner.


End file.
